


Night of Enchantment

by Morvidra



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Arguing, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen, Magic, Missing Scene, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morvidra/pseuds/Morvidra
Summary: Lettie and Martha are about to step into each others' lives.If they can ever get this spell finished, that is.





	Night of Enchantment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryfkah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/gifts).



It was a dark and stormy night, and Martha was irritated.

“Even the weather in Ingary follows the stories,” she fumed. “Just because I’m making a life-changing decision is no reason for the atmosphere to get dramatic about it.”

Lettie rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one making a life-changing decision here, you know.”

“I’m the youngest of three,” Martha said calmly. “You’re the middle daughter. The weather wouldn’t care if you turned yourself into a cat.”

“Martha, I really doubt the weather cares what you’re doing with your life either,” Lettie snapped. “It’s spring. Thunderstorms happen. Besides which, I’m the one who’ll have to travel in the rain tomorrow if the storm doesn’t ease tonight, and I’m currently standing here with _honey_ dripping off my head!”

“Well if you’ll just _hold on_ , I’ll check the next step,” Martha said, picking up the spell-book. “What page did I say it was on?”

Lettie resisted the urge to tug at her curls. “One hundred and twenty three,” she said, spitting out each word separately. “You know, they invented bookmarks for this very reason.”

Martha was not paying attention. “You really need to try some of these,” she said flicking pages over with her thumb. “Flying sounds lovely – I wish I’d had time to give it a go.”

“The thing with flying,” Lettie said, gripping her patience tightly, “the _important_ thing about it, is that you can’t stop halfway to check the instructions and find out how to get down. You have to read it all in one shot. As a procedure, it has a lot to recommend it. So if you’d _please_ just get to the point…”

“Ah, got it!” Martha said cheerfully. “Right, now let’s see. Done that, done that… used the honey, twirled three times, yes, yes… mirrors.” She looked up. “Did you bring the mirrors?”

Lettie fished in her apron pocket. “I still don’t know why you couldn’t bring one with you,” she grumbled.

“Because it would have been a bit of a job to explain to Mrs Fairfax why I wanted to pack the wall-mirror in my overnight bag,” Martha snapped. “I’m supposed to be visiting from homesickness, remember? She’d have thought I was running away if I’d started packing the bedroom furniture.”

“Well I had to borrow one from Carrie at the bakery, so don’t break it.” 

“Is Carrie one of the other apprentices?”

“Yes.” Lettie fished the two hand mirrors out of her apron pocket. “Which means you can give it back to her tomorrow and come up with some explanation.”

Martha shrugged. “I’ll think of something. We have to hold the mirrors in our right hands, and hold them out at arm’s length, so we can see our whole face in them.”

Lettie had to tilt her little mirror several times to find the right angle, but managed it eventually. Martha faced her, holding her own mirror similarly.

“Now grab my left hand with yours,” Martha said. “When I count three, we have to spin around, staying facing each other, keeping in exactly this pose.”

“That’s going to be awkward,” Lettie said, turning it over in her mind. “How many times do we spin?”

“Until we see the change,” Martha said, shrugging. “It doesn’t say how long that should take.”

“Lovely,” Lettie said dryly. “So, we just keep spinning round each other, trying not to fall out of this very uncomfortable pose, and waiting for the magic to happen.”

“And staring into the mirrors,” Martha said. “You mustn’t look away from your mirror – that’s very important.”

Oh well, Lettie thought, what was there to lose, after all?

“On three?” she asked.

Martha nodded. The candles flickered ominously, and the two girls began to spin. 

The room flashed past in the corners of Lettie’s vision. She was vaguely aware that her shoulders were aching from the strain of holding her position, and the hand that grasped her sister’s was becoming sticky with sweat, but her focus had narrowed down to the small mirror that reflected her own face.

And then, between one breath and the next, it was no longer her own face that stared back at her. Instead of dark curls, the mirror showed fair, wispy locks, and her eyes were grey instead of blue. 

In her shock, Lettie let go of Martha’s hand. Stumbling backwards Lettie tripped on the rug under her feet, and half-fell onto the floor.

“Ow,” she said.

There was a crash as Martha hit the wall on the other side of the room. “Ow,” Lettie heard her sister say, in a voice that sounded subtly different.

“My head’s spinning so much I can’t be sure,” Lettie said, flopping back to lie full-length. “Did it work?”

“I think so,” Martha groaned. “The mirrors showed it, and you sound different…”

“So do you.”

“And the honey’s gone from my hair,” Martha said, sounding more alert. “So something must have happened.”

Lettie felt the top of her head gingerly. “It’s gone from mine too, I think… don’t you ever wash your hair?”

“It frizzes too much when I do.” The sound of Martha staggering to her feet encouraged Lettie to try sitting up again. The room still lurched a little, but she thought she could stand it.

“That’s really odd,” Martha said, weaving a slightly unsteady way across the room.

“You’re telling me,” Lettie agreed. The sight of her own face and form being worn by someone else was enough to make her feel slightly dizzy again. “…We don’t have to do this again to change back, do we?”

“Shouldn’t have to.” Martha flopped down next to her. “We should change back gradually over some time. It’ll wear off.”

“That’s good,” Lettie said fervently.

“The storm’s passed,” Martha commented after a minute.

“They do tend to,” Lettie agreed.

“It’s because I’ve made my life choice now,” Martha said smugly.

Lettie hit her with a cushion, Martha retaliated, and the candles were only just saved from disaster.


End file.
